From the beginning of the day, it was apparent that it was going to be one of our full throttle days. Our youngest son woke in a whirlwind and soon started his swath of destruction. It started with his breakfast muffin, a special treat his father had left him. After he finished eating, he looked at me and declared "Hey Momma. I think my muffin desploded." It surely looked as if it had. Muffin debris was everywhere on the table, chair, and floor. We cleaned it up. When we finished and I went for my keys to take our oldest son to his grandfather's house for the day, I discovered my youngest son had left a chewy granola bar open in my purse after speech therapy the day before. Grrr. Another mess to clean up.
It was one of our son's very verbal days. Every single sentence or conversation started with "Hey guys. Hey guys. Guess what?" His verbal impulsiveness was off the charts. Normal conversation etiquette of waiting your turn, volume control, and not interrupting others who are speaking were completely missing today. Reminders and redirection were completely ignored or launched him into a meltdown. Ironically, he had very little disfluency or drooling today.
Creatively, he was a whirlwind of activity and energy. He and his stuffed animals created a restaurant in the basement and hosted a cooking competition. A little later, he set up a classroom for his friends. At one point, he decided to dance for money and put on a performance in the middle of the kitchen as his father tossed him dimes. He turned to me and asked "Don't you have any money for me Momma?" As the evening wound down, he decided he was a DJ. He put on a "DJ outfit" and gathered three, five gallon buckets to be his DJ equipment. He covered them in masking tape and proceeded to host a dance party.
In terms of thinking and learning, he was on full alert. He completed his summer schoolwork then asked to go on Raz-kids.com to work on his reading. When we came home from the store, he spent a lot of time "planning his life". It consisted on making lists of things he would need to buy and what his life would be like when he "turned sixteen and moved out". Lots of lists. Lots of lists that involved talking loudly to himself as he wrote them.
All of these things are wonderful! Creative! Fun! I truly find his mind entertaining and fascinating.
His behavior is also exhausting. It is also hard to accomplish simple life tasks when he is spiraling from activity to activity. Multiple times throughout the morning and evening, his older brother declared "Would you please stop spinning?!?" At one point, I wanted to holler "Would you please stop talking?!?" but I didn't. I'm just grateful he has the ability to drive my insane.
Summer has been a challenge because of the continuation of the regression that had started in the winter. He has been stuttering, blocking and drooling. His frustration levels have increased. He has also started wanting to do everything for himself. "I'm a big boy. Stop telling me. Stop helping me. I can do it." These are the things he tells us over and over as he spills, drops and breaks things. As he trips, falls, and cuts himself.
Because of this prolonged regression, his desire to be a big kid, and his adverse reaction to our assistance, we had contacted an out-patient therapeutic program to get him on the waiting list for speech therapy. About a month ago, he started attending weekly speech therapy for hour long sessions. He has genuinely been trying to implement the techniques he is being taught. In the last week, we have seen a slight reduction in his disfluency and his drooling. I'm hopeful that we are finally coming out of this regression and starting into another burst of development.
At the therapy center, I met the mother of a sweet little guy with severe autism. She and I have spent some time talking as we wait for our kiddos to finish their therapy sessions. Her spirit and joy is contagious. She talks about how far they have come with their son who is now eleven. She is so joyful of where they are and hopeful for where they are going. I enjoy my time with her.
I also feel ashamed. My son is so bright and happy and expressive. He can tell me what is wrong, what he wants, where he is going. My son drives me to the point of insanity with his talking and animation and activity. She prays for the day her son can use words to express himself. I sometimes pray for silence.
Tonight, at the dinner table, as my son ran in and out of the room, pursuing whatever activity was occupying his mind, yelling and interrupting any attempt at conversation, my husband cracked the world's dumbest joke. I started to laugh. And laugh. And laugh until I cried. I couldn't stop. My husband and oldest son looked at me and declared "She's finally cracked. She's lost her mind." When I finally regained control, I finished my supper and went for a bath.
I'm tired. I'm wrung out. But tomorrow is a new opportunity to find the joy in the moment. To enjoy the beautiful spirit that is my son. To thank God for blessing me with this happy, full throttle little ball of energy. Tomorrow is another day.
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